the house of life
by Cora Clavia
Summary: Love, our light at night and shade at noon. Six scenes.
1. Chapter 1

Dedicated to Cartographicals and Sparklemouse, with my thanks for talking me through some unpleasant stuff recently. I really appreciate it, you two.

* * *

the house of life

It's late when Kate finally gets home. She's tired. She's past tired. It…it wasn't a good day. One too many close calls. Ryan was a shaking mess when he left the precinct. Esposito had that quiet tight look, the one she hates seeing. It was a split second. One second. If they'd been a single breath slower, they wouldn't have gotten out.

She swallows hard, pressing her fist to her mouth, breathing in slowly. It's done. It's over. They're safe. She's home.

Kate finally unlocks the front door and slips into the loft. It's quiet. The kitchen lights are on, and the lamp beside the couch throws a golden glow over the sitting area. Strange, though. Where's –

Oh.

Castle's stretched out on the couch, fast asleep. Charlotte's curled up on his chest in her fuzzy purple footie pajamas, thumb in her mouth, Cupcake in her other hand. She snuffles softly, her little body rising and falling with the rhythm of her father's even breathing.

Something uncurls in Kate's chest, something horrible and tightly wound and panicked. She takes in a long, shaky breath, her eyes stinging. It's the one thing that makes it okay, all the days her job hurts, all the late nights and close calls. She has someone to come home to. She has _two _someones to come home to. Her whole heart, her whole body and mind are swamped and overwhelmed and drowned in how fiercely she loves the two sleeping figures in front of her.

Kate's loath to interrupt the peaceful scene, but she glances at the clock. It's long past Charlie's bedtime. From the way they're curled up, and the stack of fairytale books on the coffee table, it looks like Castle was trying to wait up for her. She hates the nights she's out so late. But at least she can put their little girl to bed.

"Come here, baby," she whispers. Charlotte wakes up slowly, her big blue eyes blinking sleepily as Kate collects her from Castle's arms and settles the girl on her hip. "Time for bed."

"Mommy." Charlotte winds her little arms around Kate's neck, and Kate gets a faceful of stuffed bunny. "We were waiting for you."

"I'm sorry I'm late, Charlie." Kate presses her lips to the little girl's forehead.

"Mmmm. 'Sokay." Charlie nuzzles her neck. "Daddy said you'd be home."

Kate holds her breath. She and Castle had this talk. It breaks her heart, but she just can't bring herself to tell this little angel that there's a chance Daddy might be wrong someday. That Mommy might not come home.

She carries Charlotte up the stairs and settles her in her bed, pulls up the soft yellow blanket with its colorful butterflies, and tucks her in. Charlie sighs, clutching Cupcake closer. "I love you, Mommy."

"Love you too, Charlie."

Charlie's out like a light even before she finishes, her breathing slow and deep and even. Kate pauses, hand on the doorknob, watching their daughter sleeping peacefully. Charlotte sleeps with her thumb in her mouth, Cupcake tucked securely in her arm, and while she's tucked neatly under her butterfly blanket right now, Kate knows, by morning she'll have kicked it off onto the floor and curled into a ball.

She's about to turn and go back downstairs when she feels arms circle her waist, a body coming to frame hers, a cheek pressed to her hair. She smiles, leaning back into the strong warmth of him. She can feel him smiling against her.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Castle."

* * *

It's a sunny day in Kailua, blue sky and green palm trees and turquoise water, the Hawaiian air thick and lazy. The beach is relatively secluded, just a few other families scattered nearby, and out in the water a few ambitious teenagers are attempting to boogie board.

Kate's stretched out on their blanket, soaking up the sun. Not far away, in her little pink swimsuit, Charlotte is busily shoveling sand into her plastic pail, scraping off the top neatly with her toy shovel, grunting as she drags the heavy bucket and manages to finally upend it, making another little mountain. She's managed to almost completely bury Castle, leaving only his head poking out of the sand as she concentrates on making his toes vanish completely, scowling when he wiggles them and they poke out of the sand again. She's a bright little girl, and surprisingly focused. She fixes her attention on tasks with a deliberation unusual for her age. And she's patient. Not a trait she got from her father.

Kate pulls off her sunglasses, brushing off her legs, and walks over to them. Castle just grins at her. She shakes her head. "Charlie, what are you doing to your dad?"

"Daddy's in sand jail," Charlie tells her.

"For what?"

"For tickling me when I wanted him to stop." Charlie wrinkles her little nose - Castle has said it a thousand times, _She gets that from you, Kate_ - and smoothes the sand with her shovel.

"So you decided to bury him?"

The girl nods, clearly not understanding why her mother isn't following the logic. "This way he can't tickle me."

"What if he escapes and comes to GET YOU!" Castle shouts.

With a dramatic roar, he emerges from his prison, sand flying everywhere as he lunges at Charlotte. She shrieks, flinging her shovel aside and running to latch herself onto Kate. "Mommy! Mommy!"

Kate reaches down, trying to pull the little girl free, but she clings to Kate's legs stubbornly. "Charlie, it's just Daddy."

"But he _got out_," the girl whimpers.

Kate finally manages to pry the little arms loose and picks her up, settling her daughter on her hip. "I'll save you."

"Don't let him tickle me," Charlotte whispers as Castle approaches, brushing sand off his chest and arms.

"Castle, you're scaring her."

He scoffs. "I was _buried alive_, Kate. I narrowly escaped."

She shifts the girl in her arms. "Charlie, do you want to ask Daddy something?"

Charlie blinks her big blue eyes at Kate, then turns to her dad shyly. "Daddy, no tickles? Please?"

"No tickles. I promise." He tugs lightly on one of her little pigtails. "Kisses instead?"

Charlotte beams. "Yeah."

She smacks one loudly on his cheek, then on Kate's. Castle grins, planting a soft kiss on the girl's forehead. "You want to go build a sandcastle? Together?"

She nods brightly, squirming as Kate sets her back down, and she runs off to go grab her pail. Kate watches her go, but then an arm slips around her waist, and she looks back at her husband. "What?"

"Kisses, Kate."

He presses his mouth to hers briefly, his hand brushing her cheek, and when he lets her go she bites her lip, smiling. "Go on. You've got a castle to build."

He steals one more kiss. "I _am_ the Castle, Kate."

"Daddy! Daddy, let's go!"

Charlotte comes running back to them and grabs his hand, dragging him back to the former scene of his imprisonment and pressing her plastic shovel into his hand.

* * *

They throw a Christmas party.

The loft is ablaze with lights, rich and fragrant with evergreen, red and gold ribbons and holly, glittering snowflakes hanging from the ceiling.

Charlotte clings tight to Kate's hand, eyes wide as she looks around at the chattering guests. She's all dressed up in her favorite party dress, shiny red taffeta with a lacy collar. Her hair is loose over her shoulders ("Like yours, Mommy!"), and with the red-and-gold bow on her headband and her little white tights and shiny patent-leather shoes, Charlie looks cuter than Kate had even thought possible.

She's quiet, though. At least in this, she's not her father's daughter. Charlotte's shy. She's sweet, and affectionate, yet in large crowds, she tends to cling. But she shrieks with delight, shyness forgotten, as she sees the Ryans coming through the front door. She lets go of Kate's hand and runs to cling to Uncle Kevin's knees.

Charlotte ends up greeting almost all their guests, though Kate has to gently remind her not to simply latch onto people's legs. She gives up, though, when Alexis and her boyfriend walk in and Charlie runs straight to her big sister and jumps into her arms.

Eventually Charlie gets tired and ends up on the couch. She sits quietly, feet sticking out in her shiny black Mary Janes. Lanie scoops her up, making the girl giggle. "You enjoying the party, baby?" Charlie nods bashfully. "You look gorgeous, Charlie. Just like your mommy."

"Thank you," Charlie mumbles, pressing her cheek to Lanie's. "You're really pretty too."

"Well thank you, baby!" Lanie tweaks her nose. "Let's go find your mom and dad, sweetie."

Charlie wriggles to the floor and tugs Lanie's hand, pulling her back towards the kitchen, where Kate's trying to stop Castle and Ryan from turning a jug of eggnog into pure rum.

Kate finally wrests the rum away from them, puts the eggnog back into the fridge, wipes the counter, and takes a look over the party. Their friends from the precinct, Castle's colleagues from Black Pawn, neighbors, and several of Castle's poker buddies.

"Castle, where's Charlie?"

Castle nods over towards the stereo. She's dancing with Uncle Esposito, standing on his shoes as she clutches his hands tightly. He shuffles her around the floor slowly, swinging her up so her feet dangle, and she giggles, kicking until he sets her back down.

Charlie gets to stay up later than usual for the party, but bedtime finally comes. After hugs and kisses from Lanie and the boys and Alexis and others, Castle carries the sleepy girl up to her room. Kate gets her into her little pajamas while Castle carefully hangs up her party dress, and they tuck her into bed together.

"Good night, sweetie." Castle kisses her forehead.

"Night Daddy. Night Mommy."

They leave her snuggled neatly with Cupcake, shutting her bedroom door gently, and Castle turns for the stairs to rejoin the party, but Kate catches his hand. He looks back. "What is it?"

She bites her lip teasingly, reaching into her pocket. And she pulls out a sprig of mistletoe.

Castle raises his eyebrows playfully. "Why Kate, you naughty thing."

She kisses him soundly, tucking the mistletoe into his breast pocket and patting it neatly. "Just wait till the party's over, Castle." She leans in to whisper in his ear. "I already put some in the bedroom."

* * *

It's January 9th.

In the quiet light of morning, Kate sits on the bed and cries quietly.

It's too much. Too much to think about her little girl and realize that Johanna never got to see her. That Charlotte will never know her grandmother.

Kate gives up and covers her eyes, taking a shuddering breath. She just needs a minute. She needs to get it out. Castle was up before she was; he's making breakfast right now. She'll just splash some water on her face and go out to the kitchen. He'll understand.

Soft footsteps enter the room, and Kate looks up to see her daughter peeking hesitantly from behind the door. "Mommy?"

She wipes her eyes, trying to smile. "Hi, Charlie."

Charlotte blinks up at her, big blue eyes wide, but says nothing. The little girl clambers up onto the bed. Wordlessly, she wraps her arms around Kate's neck and curls up in her lap, a warm, soft bundle in her mother's arms.

Kate combs her fingers through Charlotte's silky hair, blinking away the tears. She's a cuddly girl, always keen on clinging to whichever parent is nearest. But this is different. Charlie smiles a lot, but right now, her little face is grave, soft, an expression that doesn't seem to fit such a tiny child. She's clinging to Kate's shirt with her small hands like she's worried. Charlie looks up at her. Those blue eyes - so much like her father's - are blurry with tears. "Charlie? Is something wrong?" Charlotte doesn't - Kate's never told her the whole story of her grandmother. Charlie doesn't know why January 9th hurts. Why it will always hurt.

Charlie says nothing, just reaches up to brush away the tears from her mother's cheeks with clumsy little fingers. She plants a jam-flavored kiss on Kate's cheek. And she curls up silently, pressing her small hand to Kate's chest, just over the faint scar that's still there. She's never asked what it is. But her little palm is soft, the warmth settling into Kate's skin, through the thick scar tissue, into her bones and her blood and she's still sad but at least she has Charlotte. Charlotte, who doesn't ask, just curls up and cries because Mommy's crying too.

Kate doesn't know how long they stay there, holding each other silently as tears stream down her cheeks, but then there are heavy footsteps, and Castle's there. He wraps his arms around them both, pulling them into the solid warmth of his body. Kate lets out a long breath, feeling the kiss he places on her forehead.

She cries until she doesn't need to anymore, and in the circle of their little family, she's come to realize, now she doesn't have to cry alone.

* * *

It's 7:30 on Saturday morning. Kate wakes up, rolls over, and finds Castle's side of the bed empty.

She shrugs on his robe - her robe is fine, but his is just so much more _snuggly_ - and pads out into his office.

Castle's in his chair, typing away on his laptop, brow furrowed in concentration. Charlotte's curled up in a ball on top of his feet, fast asleep in her purple pajamas, her face buried in her stuffed bunny.

Kate chuckles softly and Castle looks up, smiling. "Morning."

"You have a footwarmer."

"Yeah." He grins sheepishly. "She offered to proofread if I needed help."

"You want me to take her?"

"Nah." He leans over, smoothes their daughter's hair. Charlotte snuffles softly, mumbling something unintelligible, but doesn't wake up. "She's fine."

"Okay." Kate stoops to kiss him softly. "I'll make coffee."

"You're the perfect woman," he grins, tugging her sleeve to pull her back in for another kiss. "You are."

She pats his cheek. "Hold that thought till I get some caffeine, okay?"

She shuffles out of his office. "Kaaaaate," he calls after her. "Are there any muffins left?"

"You want a muffin too?" She quirks an eyebrow at him. "Greedy, Mr. Castle."

He beams. "You complete me, Mrs. Castle."

* * *

Kate runs her fingers through her hair, and after a moment's deliberation, she picks up the curling iron again to finish a few loose strands.

Finally satisfied, she pads barefoot back into the bedroom, Charlotte trailing along eagerly. The little girl perches on the bed while Kate zips up her dress. It's deep blue satin with touches of sparkle, a neckline that's demure but teasing, the skirt too long to be trashy but too short to be quite innocent. It's new. Castle's going to like it.

"Mommy, you look so _pretty_," Charlotte breathes, wide-eyed, clutching her bunny.

"Thank you, sweetie." Kate leans over and kisses her cheek. "I'm almost done. Don't want to keep your daddy waiting."

Charlotte watches her put in her earrings, hugging Cupcake to herself as Kate stoops to slip on her shoes. She stands again, relishing the extra inches of height. That's better.

Kate straightens her dress, smoothing the skirt, and takes a breath. "Am I ready, Charlie?"

Charlie scrambles off the bed and comes to stand beside her in the mirror. "You look like a princess, Mommy."

"She does, doesn't she?"

Kate turns to find Castle leaning in the door, beaming at them. Oh wow, he looks good. Dark suit, deep violet shirt, the top few buttons opened, his hair carefully combed. Her body is already humming. He looks delicious. There are a few subtle hints of silver in his hair now, and to be perfectly honest, she finds it unbearably sexy.

"You're not so bad yourself, Mr. Castle," Kate murmurs. Charlie, meanwhile, runs to hug her father. He picks her up and tosses her in the air, making her shriek with giggles.

He cuddles Charlie into his chest, stage-whispering into her ear. "I think your mother is going to be the the prettiest woman at the party, don't you?"

Charlotte nods eagerly. "And she's in her tall shoes, Daddy. This way you fit together."

"Yeah." His eyes meet Kate's, warm and loving. "We do."

Charlie clasps her father's hand tightly as they walk out of his study. Martha's on the sofa, paging through a script, but when she sees them she sets the script aside, opening her arms for her granddaughter, who runs toward her happily. "Charlotte! How's my darling?"

"Thanks for babysitting, Martha."

"I'm happy to do it. You two go have a good time." Martha beams at them. "Kate, I have to say. You look absolutely divine. And Richard, you look positively debonair."

"Thank you, Mother. Charlie, you be good for your Gram, okay?" Charlotte nods, squirming happily in Martha's lap. "See you in the morning, sweetheart."

Kate leans in to kiss Charlie's cheek. "Good night, baby girl."

"Good night, Mommy! Good night, Daddy!"

Castle slips Kate's coat over her shoulders and they wave on their way out the door. She pauses to lean on the wall and tug at one of her shoes while Castle pushes the elevator button.

"You look beautiful tonight, Kate."

She flashes him a smile, lacing her fingers through his teasingly as she pulls him into the elevator. "Aren't you sweet."

"I really am." He presses a kiss to her cheek. "Fifty bucks says Mother lets her stay up an hour past her bedtime."

"I'm not taking that bet," Kate scoffs. "Of course she will."

Castle grins. "I'd worry, if Charlie wasn't such a good kid."

"Mmm. She really is." Kate nuzzles his neck, feeling his arm tighten around her waist. "Really great kid."

"She's a winner, Kate. With your looks and your brains, she's unstoppable."

Kate smiles softly, her thumb tracing a circle over his hand, but there's a twist in her heart. There's more. Castle always jokes that Charlotte's so pretty because she looks like her mother, but -

"She has your eyes," Kate blurts out, her fingers tightening involuntarily around his, instinctively tracing the line of his wedding band. Her throat is aching and she doesn't know why. But whenever she looks at their baby girl, she sees those big blue eyes, wide and guileless and so much that she fell in love with in the first place, and sometimes it washes over her so hard she can't -

His mouth is on hers then, warm and gentle and understanding. He knows. He gets it. Somehow he just does. He always does.

And their daughter has his blue eyes.

He steals one last quick kiss before the elevator doors open. They step out into the lobby, and he tugs her arm. "Come on, Mrs. Castle." He slides his hands over her hips, pulling her into the line of his body, his forehead pressed to hers. "Let's go make out in the limo."


	2. Scene 7

a/n: this is something that bugs me, even though I know when people say it, it's not meant to be cruel.

* * *

Kate slowly opens the door to Charlotte's bedroom, Castle standing beside her.

"Charlie?"

Their little girl is curled up on her bed, crying quietly. She's still wearing her kindergarten uniform, the little plaid skirt and knee socks, and she's clutching the stuffed bunny she keeps on her bookshelf.

Sharing a quick glance, Kate and Castle step inside quietly. Charlotte doesn't move as they settle beside her on the bed. Kate runs her hand over Charlie's silky brown hair, waiting for the girl to cry herself out.

Charlie finally goes from full crying to copious sniffling; Castle grabs the box of Kleenex from her dresser and lets her dry her eyes and wipe her nose. She curls up between the two of them, her face buried in her father's shoulder, and Kate drops a soft kiss on the top of her head.

"Sweetie? What's wrong?"

For a long moment the little girl doesn't say anything; she wraps her arms tighter around Cupcake and stares at the comforter. And when she does open her mouth, it's so quiet Kate almost doesn't hear it.

"Am I an accident?"

"Charlie?" Castle brushes her hair back from her little face, so serious. "What do you mean?"

"I heard Lily's mom talking to Krista's mom. She said _Charlotte Castle was an accident_." Charlie looks up at them, her face streaked with tears. "What does that mean? Am I not supposed to be here? Did you not want me?"

"Oh, Charlie. No. Not even close." Kate pulls her close; her baby girl might be in school now, reading books, clever and creative, but she's still a hugger. She makes a mental note to deliver some choice words to Krista's shrill, sharp-tongued mother on the subject of what's appropriate for a sensitive, impressionable six-year-old's ears. Charlie's a cop's daughter; the word _accident_ has bad connotations in her young mind.

Castle tugs lightly on one of her pigtails. "You weren't an accident, sweetheart." He smiles, his eyes meeting Kate's. "You were just a surprise."

* * *

Seven years ago, Castle was at home, cooking dinner, when Kate got back from the doctor's appointment she hadn't told him about and answered his cheerful greeting with two quiet words.

He pulled her tightly into his arms and refused to let go, until she gently reminded him she needed to breathe for two now.

The marinara sauce ended up a scorched mess at the bottom of the pot long before he remembered it.

* * *

"You burned supper, Dad?"

Castle nods gravely. "I did. Your mother teased me about it mercilessly."

Charlie turns to Kate, who nods in affirmation. The girl's stopped crying; Castle's stories have always had a magic over her, and this one seems to be no exception.

"So then what did you do?"

Castle hesitates, catching Kate's eyes, and they silently agree to simply…cut ahead in the story a bit. They'd spent the next hour burning off the calories they'd actually forgotten to eat, and it wasn't the sort of activity Charlie needed to know about just yet.

"Well. That night, we called your grandpa…"

* * *

Jim was at home when they called him with the news; they put Kate's phone on speaker and told him he was going to have a grandchild. He cried.

Martha was in Chicago for a theater revue; they knew she was in shows every evening and wouldn't always have her phone, so they called her the next morning. The call woke her up, but judging from her reaction, she didn't mind. She called her understudy, cancelled her last week and a half of appearances and flew straight back to New York. _I want to be with family_, she'd told them when they tried to protest. _Boy or girl, this kiddo's going to have fabulous hair, you know. Genetics._

* * *

"You know your dad and I love you, Charlie."

She nods, her hair rustling against Kate's shirt.

"You know Grandpa Jim and Gram and Alexis love you. And Uncle Javier, Uncle Kevin, Aunt Jenny, Aunt Lanie…"

"Yes." Charlie smiles, burying her face in Kate's shoulder bashfully.

"Charlie. While your mom was pregnant with you – " Castle leans in, his eyes sparkling, though his face is serious – "to make sure you were healthy, while you were growing – she didn't drink _any_ coffee. For eight whole, entire _months_."

Charlie's eyes go wide. "_Mom_. No coffee?"

Kate laughs. "I survived, sweetheart."

"But you _love_ coffee."

"I love you more."

Charlie laughs at that, planting a sloppy kiss on her mother's cheek.

"We wanted you from the moment we knew you were going to be ours, Charlie."

* * *

Castle cradled their newborn baby girl to his chest – how could she possibly be so perfect? – and Kate watched, her damp hair sticking to her sweaty skin, her body still limp with exhaustion. So tiny. She was so impossibly tiny.

"She's perfect," Kate whispered.

Castle looked up, smiling at her, his whole face tired and glowing with such pure, unadulterated joy. Even on their wedding day, he hadn't looked like this. That sunny day in the Hamptons, his love had been written across his face. And now it was the same, but with their tiny baby daughter in his strong arms, her little pink cap dwarfed by his big hands, it all just seemed so much _more_.

"Here."

Castle nestled the tiny creature in her arms, and Kate held her breath, staring down at her. The baby gurgled, blinking up at her with wide eyes. Wide, blue eyes. Just like her father's.

The baby squirmed, her little red face all screwed up in exertion, and Kate couldn't breathe. So new, so tiny and precious and new to the world, and yet this little person, this impossibly little person was part of her, for almost nine months. New, but – familiar.

"What should we call her?" Castle murmured, leaning over the hospital bed to kiss Kate's forehead.

"I don't know." Kate sighed. "We'll figure out something."

"Judith?"

"No."

"Olga?"

"No."

"Gertie?"

"Castle – "

"Okay, so Gertie's a maybe." She glared at him; he kissed her cheek affectionately. "We'll decide later."

She just smiled, shaking her head, very gently tracing the baby's tiny, perfect face. "Have you seen my dad?"

"He should be here soon. He was on his way." Castle brushed the hair back from her forehead. "I know you're tired. If you want to sleep –"

"No, no. I'm fine." Kate took in a long breath. "He should see her."

"He will. And he'll love her."

Kate watched the baby settle contentedly against her chest, all red-faced and wrinkled and bald.

"Castle." She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. "She's beautiful." She touched the little girl's tiny nose carefully. "How did we make something so beautiful?"

Castle slipped his arms around them both, circling them with warmth.

"Because we love her too much for her not to be perfect."


End file.
